Sherlock
by KathyHart
Summary: Sherlock is attacked. John tries to help.  My first fanfiction, sorry for the rubbish summary
1. Chapter 1

John opened his eyes. His mobile was buzzing.

**From: Sherlock**

**Message:**

**John, why have you locked your bedroom door?**

Sighing, he sent his reply

**From: John**

**Message:**

**Because I happen to like my privacy. Have you ever thought of that?**

Minutes later, he got his reply

**From: Sherlock**

**Message:**

**I'm tired…**

Rolling his eyes, John reluctantly got up and walked to the door. Opening it, he found Sherlock sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. He almost stopped breathing when he noticed that a patch of red was slowly spreading across his white shirt.

"Sherlock, what the hell.." He knelt on the floor beside him, and placed his hand on the mans shoulder. Sherlock closed his eyes.

"Sherlock, what happened? Can you hear me?" Sherlock nodded and opened his eyes slightly.

"Man.. in the flat.." John fumbled with the buttons at the bottom of his friend's shirt, trying to get a better look at the wound on his stomach. He lowered his voice to a whisper

"A man? What man? Is he still here?"

Sherlock, feeling John's hands on him, opened his eyes and suddenly sat up.

"Sherlock, I need you to sit still. Please, I need to see how bad you're hurt.."

Sherlock glared at John nervously.

"W..why?"

John looked up at Sherlock worriedly.

"Sherlock.. did you hit your head? You look a bit.. confused."

Sherlock looks down at John's hands and suddenly swats them away. He stands up, sways a little, and stumbles into the living room, falling onto the couch.

"S-Sherlock, what happened to you? From what I can see, the would doesn't look deep, but I need to check it properly… please?"

John steps forward.

"Don't touch me!" Sherlock exclaims, shuffling away from John.

John stands rooted to the spot, not wanting to scare Sherlock any more than he already was. After a few minutes, he slowly walks forward and kneels beside Sherlock.

"Sherlock.. wh-who was the man? Did you recognise him?

Sherlock shakes his head.

"Well d-did he attack you?"

"Obviously, John!"

"Yeah r-right. Sorry.

Sherlock shifts slightly and winces in pain.

"Let me help, Sherlock. Please."

Sherlock looks into John's eyes. He hesitates for a moment before nodding. John leans forward and examines the wound.

"It's not too deep, but you'll need stitches…" John stands up. "I'll be right back, ok?"

Sherlock nods his head. John walks into the kitchen and rummages around. A few minutes later he is back at Sherlock's side.

"Ok.. this might hurt a bit.. just stay calm, ok?"

"O-ok"


	2. Chapter 2

John yawns and puts his empty cup of coffee down on the table beside him. He looks at Sherlock, still unconscious and very pale. John can't resist the urge to reach out with his hand to stroke Sherlock's, which lies so very still on top of the light blue sheets. He should have acted quicker. Why didn't he think to call an ambulance straight away? A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The door opened and a nurse walked in, followed by Mycroft.

"I'll leave you two alone" the nurse says, before leaving the room. Mycroft is staring at Sherlock, no expression on his face.

"What happened, John?"

John coughs.

"He… I wish I knew. All Sherlock told me was that he was attacked by a man. In the flat! And I was in my bedroom, not hearing a thing while Sherlock was..."

John suddenly stops talking, fearing his voice is about to break. He sighs. He must be more upset than he had realized. Mycroft turns and glares at John.

"You were there? And you didn't help him!"

John jumps a little at the unexpected outburst.

"I-I only knew something was going on when.. Sherlock was outside my bedroom, and by then it was too.. late." John's voice is shaking slightly, and he struggles to control his emotions. Mycroft walks over to Sherlock and takes his hand.

"Is he ok?

"He will be." John swallows, letting out a dry laughter at the sight of Sherlock's hand in Mycroft's.

"He will kill you if he wakes up and sees that."

Mycroft looks down and carefully takes his hand off Sherlock's

"He'll never know"

John regrets his words.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I mean, I think it's good.. showing him some affection once in a while. The normal kind, I mean. Not the creepy, big-brother-sees-you kind of affection. Not that he would appreciate it any more, but… still."

Mycroft continues glaring at John, hoping to make the man uncomfortable. John is used to the dramatic ways of the Holmes brothers by now, so he doesn't shift under Mycroft's glare. However, he still feels guilty.

"I'm sorry, I really am."

Mycroft shakes his head and looks back down at Sherlock.

John feels Sherlock gently squeeze his hand. He thinks to himself: _How long has he been awake? What did he hear? Is he ok…_

He is brought out of his thoughts by Mycroft.

"I'd better be off." Mycroft rushes out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. John focuses on Sherlock.

"How are you feeling?"

Sherlock opens his eyes.

"Tired." John nods

"And.. how long have you been awake?"

"A few minutes.. I guess"

"What did you hear?"

Sherlock closes his eyes and says nothing. John is quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say next.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Sherlock sighs and shakes his head.

"No. I really don't"

"You.. said that you were attacked in the flat, but I don't understand.. II was just a few feet away from the living room, how could I not have heard anything?"

"I don't know, John. I wasn't in there with you, was I!"

John looks away.

"No, sorry I just thought.. were you really in the flat? You know you can tell me if you weren't, right?"

"Of course I was in the flat, where else would I have been?"

John feels his face grow warm. He really should stop trying to deduce things, he just gets it wrong all the time.

"I'm sorry. Of course I believe you, I'm just looking for a reason why.. why I didn't hear you… I guess I just feel guilty. I'm sorry."

Sherlock sighs and turns his head away from John.

"I-I think your brother already has all his people investigating, but I will call Lestrade too. Is that okay? He'll probably come here to question you."

Sherlock is silent for a moment, before replying in an almost childish voice.

"I don't care."

"Right." John sighs and pulls out his phone. When he has finished the phone call, he is silent for a while, before speaking again.

"Lestrade will come here in the morning, so you should probably get some more sleep."

"I don't want to sleep"

"Fine, then I'll text Mycroft that you're awake. Shall I?"

"Threatening me with Mycroft? So bloody typical! What makes you think I care?"

John shifts in his chair and leans forward, taking on a more serious tone.

"Sherlock, why are you acting like this? What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on, John! Just leave me alone!"

"Y-you are in hospital! You were attacked by a stranger, he nearly killed you!" John gets up from the chair, shakily. "How can you expect me to just forget about that? I want to know what happened!

"What makes you think I'm gonna tell _you_?" Sherlock turns and looks straight into John's eyes.

"I'm your friend" John answers, without even thinking. Sherlock shakes his head and turns back around. John gets a foul taste in his mouth.

"Sherlock…"

"What.." Sherlock replies in a bitter tone.

"N-never mind" John replies in a quiet voice. He picks up his jacket and leaves the room, glancing back at Sherlock before he closes the door. As John is leaving, he pulls out his phone and texts Mycroft:

**Your brother is awake.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thankyou for your lovely reviews, they actually mean a lot considering this is my first fanfiction, haha.**

As soon as Sherlock hears the door shut, he sits up and begins fiddling with the tubes sticking out of his arm. Once he's pulled out the last one, he creeps over to the door and, making sure nobody can see him, he sneaks out of his room and over to the stairwell. He climbs until he reaches the rooftop. Breathing in the fresh air, he sinks to the ground and hugs his knees.

"Mr. Holmes, your brother-" The nurse walked into the room, and looked around. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen.

"Is everything alright, nurse?" Mycroft asked, following behind her. As he looked up, his expression turned to one of worry.

"Where is my brother? Where is he!"

"I- I don't know, Mr Holmes. I'll get security to search for him…" The nurse rushed off, leaving Mycroft alone. He pulled out his mobile.

**To: J. Watson**

**My brother has disappeared. Please find him before he hurts himself.**

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.

**From: J. Watson**

**I really don't think he wants to talk to me right now, I'm pretty sure he's mad at me. Look for him yourself.**

As John put his phone down on the table, a shiver ran through his spine. Sherlock was missing? Was this his fault? _Why the hell did I leave him!_ John thought. _I'm such a bloody idiot!_ His phone buzzed.

**From: Mycroft**

**He'll get over it. You need to find him before he hurts himself!**

John sighed and shook his head. _Of course I'm going to look for him,_ he though. _Of course I am._

After about fifteen minutes, Sherlock stood and began pacing the rooftop. What was he going to do now? The nurse would know he was gone soon. It's no use going back to the flat, that's the first place Mycroft would look for him. He might as well go back to his room. At least it was warm in there. And he was kind of tired.

"Yes. Back to bed…"

Sherlock turned and walked back into the building, reminding himself to hide if he heard footsteps. His legs were starting to hurt, as was his stomach. _Oh right,_ he thought._ I was stabbed, wasn't I…_

Sneaking back along the hallway, he wondered what John was doing. Had he gone back to Baker Street? It seemed likely. He had nowhere else to go…

John was confused. Why was Sherlock acting so odd? It wasn't like him to get so.. emotional? John was pretty sure that Sherlock was mad at him, but why? What had he done? As he was searching the hallways, his phone rang

**From: Mycroft**

**Sherlock in his room. He's fine.**

John leaned back against the wall, sighing in relief. _Thank God._

**From: Mycroft**

**You really should be with him. He shouldn't be on his own.**

John walked as slowly as he could towards Sherlock's room. He stood outside, wondering if he should go in. Wondering if Sherlock even wanted him there. He was just about to walk away when the door opened.

"Ah, Doctor Watson. Are you here to see Sherlock?"

"Y-yes. I am. Is he.. i-is he ok?

"Oh yes, he's perfectly fine, though a little grumpy" The doctor laughed.

"Yeah" John smiled back.

"Just go on in"

John watched the doctor walk away, before taking a deep breath and walking into the room.

Sherlock was sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. John noticed that his arms had been bleeding, where Sherlock had ripped out the tubes. John sighed.

"Hello" he said, timidly.

Sherlock didn't reply. He just sat there, not even blinking. John closed the door and carefully walked towards Sherlock.

"Sh-Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"A.. are you ok?"

"Fine."

John looked down at his hands, not knowing what to say next. He sighed quietly.

"What do you want, John?"

John jumped at hearing Sherlock's voice. It was unexpected, to say the least.

"I want to know w-why you're mad at me." John said, trying to look anywhere but Sherlock's face.

"Mad at you? Who says I'm mad at you?"

"It's kind of obvious."

Sherlock giggles to himself. The room becomes silent. The kind of silence that anyone would find unbearable.


End file.
